The Joker And Harley Quinn: The Married Life
by MiscellaneousSoup
Summary: A series that combines humor with drama, as Harley Quinn and her puddin', Mr, J., go about their married life. Rated T for random deaths.
1. A Fresh Start

**A/N: I do not own anything from DC. Read and review, if you please!**

**Chapter One: A Fresh Start**

It was a simple wedding.

It was an ornate wedding.

However, most surprising of all, it was a peaceful wedding. When all of your guests are the worst criminals in Gotham City, you would expect _some_ violence or bloodshed. Still, every single guest, from the lowliest underling to the biggest kingpin to the most corrupt of cops didn't do anything wrong. It was shocking that everyone was even there.

Still, when you miss the Joker's wedding, he might miss you. As in, miss you when you're falling off of a cliff. As in, he pushed you off a cliff and he can't save you from a painful death, because he's not Superman or the Flash, you know?

The Joker and Harley Quinn arrived, adorned in their best clothes. He wore a trademark purple suit, garnished with a rose for Harley, while she wore a white dress with a little "I H8 B Man" sticker on it. They said their vows, they kissed, everyone cried, and the wedding was over.

The wedding official, a tiny man named Mr. Crumbly feared for his life, as the Joker had promised him a 'special reward' for marrying them. Still, when everything was said and done, Harley merely tossed him a bag of fancy chocolates. Three months later, Mr. Crumbly would die of a heart disease. Oh, those married couples with their deadly, but oh so addictive treats. He never could stop finding candy to eat.

The Joker and Harley developed a schedule. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, the Joker would go out with some crazy scheme for killing Batman, and on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, Harley would meet up with Poison Ivy and either try to kill Batman or just be a nuisance to the superhero community as a whole. Sundays were spent by one of them busting the other out of jail. While Harley was out causing mischief on her days, her precious Mr. J stayed in their makeshift house, doing various chores and planning ways to kill Batman, and vice versa when he stepped out.

Still, as with almost every married couple, having a familiar, repetitive schedule could breed monotony, and monotony breeds boredom and discontent. One day, Harley came home, holding some rags and a bottle of hot sauce. With a sigh, she put them in a carton marked "FAILED WAYS TO KILL BATMAN".

"Look, Mistah J., I don't think this schedule is working out." she sighed.

The Joker looked up from his notes. "What's wrong, Harley? I'm sorry for leaving the hyena chow in the other room. I thought they would go get it. I'll put it in the room with them next time."

"No, no, it's not that. It's just that you n' me going out to do something involving Batman doesn't seem to happen anymore. Tryin' to kill him seems like a chore now. We just make complicated plan after complicated plan and nothing works. Our nights are spent cataloguing information about Batarangs and acid bombs, not talking with each other. I think that we should take some time off from trying to kill him. Just put on some disguises, see a film, there's that new Sandler movie coming out."

The Joker snarled. "Bah! He's been getting worse and worse. I prefer the classics, like Charlie Chaplin. Still, Harley, my dear, you're absolutely right We should take a vacation! Relax, talk about random things, improve our gadgets and make life more tolerable!" With a flourish, he crumpled up his papers and threw them in the piranha tank.

Harley smiled. "That's great! I can call Ivy, and see if she can take care of the hyenas. If my pets go out on their own and eat too many civilians, someone might shoot them. Also, I have something for you." She handed a small scrap of paper to the Joker.

The Joker's lips quirked. He raised his eyebrow and smiled a malicious smile, a smile full of evil delight. It was an awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea!

And the Joker and Harley packed up, made a quick call to Poison Ivy, stole someone's car, and hit the road. It was vacation time for them!

_To be continued…_

**A/N: I've never done something like this before. Had the idea in a dream, decided to write it. I hope that you enjoy it. This series will basically be about Harley and the Joker's life together. The next installment will most likely have them on vacation, relaxing. But, what was the idea? You will find out. Have an excellent day.**


	2. (Questions) In More Way Than One!)

**A/N: I still do not own anything. Also, you may ask why I am writing this. Well, if DC Comics doesn't believe in happy marriages for their characters, I'm going to write a happy marriage for some of them. TAKE THAT!**

**Chapter 2: Questions (In More Ways Than One!)**

The car swerved and hummed, going from lane to lane and paying only the barest amount of attention to the speed limit. Many other cars honked at the green and blue van, but the drivers paid them no heed. Then, they made the fatal mistake of bumping into a car run by the Joker, known for his…creative ways of getting revenge. Also with him was his beloved wife, Harley. She, too, could devise some interesting ways of torture for a pesky driver.

After the fifth accidental ramming of the Joker's red minivan, he turned to Harley with a grimace. "Harley, would you mind handing me a hand grenade or two? I've had it with that van! They have no regard for human safety!" This, of course, caused the two of them to laugh like Harley's pet hyenas.

Harley squinted at the car. "I don't know, puddin', they have some kind of logo on the side. It could be something important. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Hey, speaking of crime, what did you do with that paper?"

The Joker pointed to the back of the car. "Oh, I just put it in one of the spare trunks. If we're going to pull it off, then we need to have one _heck_ of a relaxing vacation! Speaking of which, what should we do?"

Harley grinned mischieviously. "Well, I was doing some thinkin'. We may be taking a break from making complicated plans to kill Bats, but that doesn't mean that we can't taunt some other superheroes. Nothing illegal, just being annoying. Have you done anything illegal recently? We don't want to risk goin' to jail on a technicality."

The Joker stroked his chin. "This car is stolen. Uh, I may have taken some guy's credit card on that last gas stop."

Harley looked nervous. "I shoplifted some snacks at the rest stop."

The Joker rolled his eyes. "That's easy to alleviate! We'll just eat the food!"

Harley cut him off. "Aaaand I may have vandalized the bathroom. It was really dirty, and I thought that no one would notice."

/

The manager sobbed over the flaming wreck of the rest stop. "I'm so out of a job, now! My boss is gonna kill me!"

/

The Joker shrugged. "He deserved it. It's rude to deny service to those with green hair! Prejudice is no laughing matter! But, I laugh anyway. Say, what disguises should we don for the vacation? And who should we irritate? And would we even need disguises for irritation?"

Harley considered the trifecta of questions. "Well, we haven't had to break each other out of jail for a while. Technically, we're ordinary citizens. We don't necessarily need disguises if we mock someone, but they might be necessary for renting a room at a hotel or getting into a location. As for who to annoy, I don't know, Superman?"

The two shared a long, hearty laugh at that. The Joker wiped merry tears from his eyes. "Ah, he would have us tied up and sent to jail before we could even throw a pie."

Harley went through a mental roster of heroes. "The Atom?"

The Joker shrugged. "Eh, he could just shrink and hide in our luggage. The moment we did do something illegal, he would know about it. This is just for taunting. Aquaman?"

Harley shuddered. "Hon, he can summon squid demons and giant monsters now! It's not like those days when he simply rode on a Jet-Ski and talked to simple fish."

The Joker rolled his eyes. "It's almost as if our universe is constantly shifting and changing, with personalities becoming different at any moment." He winked at Harley. "But, of course, that's ridiculous!"

/

Meanwhile, in the future, a warning signal went off in the Legion of Superheroes headquarters. Arm Fall Off Boy, the greatest member, ran to the monitor and gasped. "Everyone, you have to see this! Something really bad's going to happen sometime in 2014. We have to be on the lookout."

Everyone laughed at Arm Fall Off Boy, for being a panicky loser. Sadly, Arm Fall Off Boy's arm fell off.

/

**The Fremulock Inn, Hub City**

The Question sipped his coffee, feeling the utter contentment and bliss that only solitude can give you. No superheroes to investigate, no villains to interrogate. No more rummaging through trash or breaking into houses.

Unfortunately, Harley and the Joker chose that moment to enter the hotel, causing him to spill his coffee all over his pants.

"Hello, good sir." the Joker said. "My lovely wife and I are on a vacation and we would like to rent a room. Incidentally, can you recommend any sights to see?" Harley grinned and waved.

In the background, the Question hurriedly yanked on his mask. "My paranoia senses are tingling! Urge to run rising! MUST...BUY...METAL DETECTORS! STOP LOOKING AT ME!" He jumped out of the window and into a dumpster.

Harley turned to the clerk. "Wow, that guy has some issues. So, here's our credit cards. Do you have any recommendations?"

The clerk gulped and his complexion rapidly morphed from somewhere near the color of expired milk to the peculiar tinge of burned popcorn.

_To be continued…_

**Next Time: **More hijinks with the Question! The vacation hijinks that I promised last time! STREET JUGGLING AND INCOMPETENT MIMES!


	3. Valentine's Day SPECIAL!

**A/N: I don't own any of the DC Characters. Also, no miming, sorry. This chapter is dedicated to my sister, who is out of town. Thanks for reading my stories!**

**Chapter 3: Valentine's Day SPECIAL!**

Ah, love. We show our love for each other in many ways. Some are extravagant, others are simple, and others are a bit...unique, such as the street juggling celebration.

The Joker and Harley scooped up miniature baubles from the ground and proceeded to juggle. The Joker would grab some baubles and juggle them, while Harley juggled snowballs. Then, they would toss the snow or trinkets to each other, and resume the juggling.

You would think that the passerby would be interested in the sight of two known criminals performing for them, but you would be wrong. The two were in costumes, with baseball caps pulled over their eyes, and thick winter coats. The only indication that they were criminals wouldn't even be noticed by the average passerby. The indication was, as you may have guessed, the Question.

The Question was currently located in a small hotel room, not too far from the happy pair. He had a telescope, several pairs of binoculars, and a rifle filled with tranquilizer darts stacked near him. He nervously fiddled with the rifle. Finally, he set it down and picked up an earpiece.

**Gotham City…**

Oracle wheeled around her computer room. A small monitor began to beep, and she picked it up.

"Hello?"

"It's the Question. It's an emergency."

Oracle sighed. "Look, Question, you can't keep digging through people's trash in broad daylight. I think someone caught you this time, and-"

The Question took a deep breath. "No, it's not that, Barbara. I think- No, I _know_ that the Joker and Harley Quinn are in my hometown. _My_ hometown. It's unnerving, to say the least. The shock alone made me go temporarily crazy."

Oracle wheeled over to a larger computer and began to type something in. "Okay, I'm checking something. Uh, some gas station exploded near Hub City. There's a chance that it could be them. Some guy's car was stolen near an wrecked building in downtown Gotham. Bruce checked all of the abandoned building for criminal hideouts and put cameras in them, but Harley could have broken them. Oh, this is a weird one. A DVD of some crime show was shoplifted, along with a blanket and some popcorn. The police arrested the person who did it, but it sounded odd enough to have some connection with them."

The Question turned to his telescope. "I'm taking some precautions. I have around-the-clock monitoring and if they try anything, then-"

Oracle cut him off. "No, I don't think that the rifle will be necessary."

A pause from the Question's end. "...How did you know about the rifle?"

Barbara shrugged. "Microcameras. Alfred and Bruce whipped them up a couple of weeks ago."

The Question smacked himself in the forehead. "Blast! I'll be getting to that later. For now, I have to find out what they're doing. So far, they've just been juggling random objects and offering them to random people."

"Do they look like explosives?"

"Just snow and old Christmas tree lights. Still, you never know."

Oracle thought for some time. "Look, Question, do you need some help with this? I can arrange for some help."

The Question shook his head. "No, I can do this. I just need to find out what they're doing. Wait, wait! Something's happening. They- They…They're making balloon animals."

Barbara snickered. "Really? Are they handing those out, too?"

The Question nodded. "Yes. I'm going to go undercover. Question out."

As the Question hurriedly started rummaging through his closet, Barbara wheeled to the kitchen. This could get interesting. Popcorn time.

**Hub City…**

Harley expertly manipulated a green balloon into a squirrel. "Here ya go!" The teen smiled and walked off with her prize. The Joker gleefully transformed a blue turtle into a monkey. He handed it to the awestruck children.

The Joker turned to Harley. "My dear, this is one of the most relaxing things I've ever done. It's amazing what kinds of things people want out of a balloon. One person wanted a tuba."

Harley nodded. "Yeah, I had some odd requests. A flute, some kind of fax machine, and a camera."

At that moment, a man awkwardly walked up and tapped Harley on the shoulder. "Uh...hello. I am...Quentin Blumderson. I would like to purchase one of your balloon products, so I can inspect it. Can you please make...um….a giraffe?"

Harley nodded. "Sure! They're free, though, so no need for cash. I'm not very good at giraffes, so you'll have to wait for a few minutes."

The Joker turned to Quentin. "So...'sup?"

Quentin turned pale. "Nothing! I'm just asking about balloon animals. That is it."

The Joker shrugged. "I'm just asking. It's Valentine's Day, after all. Any plans?"

_Finding out your nefarious plans._ Quentin thought. Out loud, he merely said, "Ducks…hunting. I am going duck hunting. 'Tis the season."

Harley handed the giraffe to Quentin. "Enjoy! I added a special surprise."

Instantly, Quentin grabbed the giraffe and scurried away.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Not even a thank you! Harley, I have had a Valentine's Day surprise planned. Do you want to go?"

Harley shrugged. "Sure! I'm running out of balloon animals, anyway. Sorry, folks!" The small crowd sighed and left, presumably to find other balloon animal makers.

The Joker grinned a grin of delight. "Okay, then! The fiesta shall begin! To the zoo!"

**Question's Apartment…**

The Question rushed into his appointment and yanked his mask off, only to replace it with a gas mask. He held up a scanner and ran it along the balloon. Nothing suspicious was registered. Quickly, he ran to the kitchen and taped a series of straws together, while attaching a small pin to the , he crouched behind his bed and tentatively punctured the giraffe.

Nothing happened. He waited for a few seconds. Still nothing. Stealthily, he picked up the tattered remains and turned it over, looking for clues. There was only a message, scrawled with a Sharpie, on the inside of the animal. It simply read, "Happy Valentine's Day, Quentin!" The Question facepalmed.

Throughout the day, the Joker and Harley celebrated a lovely February 14th. There was a zoo trip, where they gazed at the hyenas ("Not as well-trained as mine." Harley would later comment. A passerby perked up at that.), a fancy lunch at an Italian restaurant, where the server was very awkward and appeared to be sniffing them, and a trip to the library, where the librarian asked several extremely personal questions on what they were reading. Finally, exhausted but pleased, they went back to the hotel for a good night's sleep.

Back in his hotel, the Question grumpily sat at his desk, rummaging through papers. The whole day had been a complete failure. Harley and the Joker were still free, he had no idea what they were up to, and he used up a perfectly good series of masks. They're hard to make. Slowly, he pulled out the communicator and dialed up Oracle. It was time to bring in the Bat.

Meanwhile, something odd was going on at the edge of the town. Obviously, odd sights could frequently be seen in this world, (A seemingly-flying person in black clothing? Someone carrying a lasso and wearing a tiara? Green energy turning into a monkey? Seriously, am I the only one noticing this?) but this was odder. A series of Christmas lights had sprouted miniature legs and were walking somewhere. If you could get a bird's eye view of the general area, you might be able to notice that they are heading towards Central City. Uh, oh…

**Next Time: **The Bat.

**A/N: The postings of this story may be weekly. It depends on how much I have written, and how far ahead I've planned. PM me for updates!**


	4. The Lights They Are A-Forming

**A/N: I don't own anything...or do I? No, I don't. This is dedicated to my sister, because I can do that. Also, last chapter, I said "PM me for updates!" It's clarification time. PM me if you want to. I may say something like, "Being written or being planned." Just ask me random questions.**

**Chapter 4: "The Lights; They Are A-Forming"**

The night. A time of darkness, a time of fright, a time where, if left unchecked, the very worst of humanity may arise. The absolute scourge and scum of the earth can do their dirty deeds in a gentle cloak. To avoid the darkness from being turned against them, however, they utilize gadgets and doodads, like night-vision goggles, or flashlights, if you're on a budget.

The worst of the worst, the grim, cruel, snide, and just plain snarky will not hesitate if they see an opportunity. They may have standards and scruples, but some villains don't have personal ethics or morals. Pay them enough and they'll do whatever you ask. Some call them mercenaries, other use the term 'hired criminals.' Steven P. Wornchupper was most decidedly _not_ one of those criminals.

He was more of the 'Hey, I need some cash. Is there a bank handy?' types, not an 'Imma go kill me a hero!' person. Not because he wouldn't do that. On the contrary, he longed to have respect within the criminal community, to be known for one big thing. Today would be his day to shine.

"Mr. Wornchupper, please get out of the fast food restaurant. We know it's you." A lone police car was casually parked near the door of the bank. Inside the bank, poor Steven trembled and unsteadily pushed his revolver in the general direction of a random person.

Outside, Officer Renee Montoya sighed. "Listen, Steven, this is for your own good. That person you're aiming at? She's Maria Vargas, _a judge_. Specifically, one who'll convict you in court. Just surrender your weapon and get out."

Steven gulped. He threw the gun at the door and ran into the back room. Unfortunately, one of the workers had scurried back there, and was wielding a nasty-looking spatula. Five minutes later, Steven was unconscious, bleeding from the head, and ready for a comfortable stay in jail, until the time arose for his day in court.

**The Fremulock Inn, Hub City…**

It was party time at the Fremulock Inn! And by 'party', of course I mean 'get rid of the weird couple' time. The hotel's workers were very pleased. The Kerr couple had only stayed there for two nights, but a pair of nights they were! Strange noises could be heard, almost as if they were speaking long into the night, plotting, planning, making decisions. Additionally, room service was called at odd hours, and for the most absurd requests! Comedy videos, links to YouTube clips of _Garfield & Friends_, and frozen pizza. Why YouTube links? Couldn't they easily look it up themselves? And why _Garfield & Friends_? And why frozen pizza? Their room didn't have a microwave. Did they honestly want to munch on cold, disgusting food? At any rate, the employees were very grateful, but also extremely terrified. Who knows what crazy things an average guest could leave behind, let alone a giggling, cold pizza-eating, couple?

The housekeeper grimaced, and knocked on the door. Almost immediately, it opened to reveal a pristine room, sparkling, sweet-smelling, fresh- the stuff of legends! Harley opened the bathroom door, revealing an equally spotless lodgings, even the year-old toothpaste smudges on the window were gone! "Mr. and Mrs. Kerr" bowed and took their leave. After a quick checking-out, they got into the same stolen car and drove away.

Harley cackled. "That was great, puddin'! If we do the cleaning for them, that means that they get less money!"

The Joker nodded. "I'm pretty sure that that's how it works. In any case, if we're wrong, then it'll still have been fun! So, what do you want to do, darling?"

Harley checked her map. "Well, I kind of want to take another look at the plan. I'm not sure that everything's going the way it should be. What have we accomplished?"

The Joker stroked his chin. "Hmmm...Those Christmas lights are on the move...We've crushed the dreams of some grumpy hotel employees...I think we remembered to fill the balloons with poison gas...Am I forgetting something? Ah, yes! We outsmarted The Question!"

Harley gave him a high five. "Woo! How did he not know that we knew that he was Quentin? No human is that awkward! D'you think he'll come back?"

Something landed on the top of the car with a thump. Either he was back, or there was one heck of a hailstorm going on.

**Blackgate Penitentiary, Gotham City…**

In a far corner in the library, Steven moped. Getting beaten up by some freshman kid, accidentally holding a weapon to a judge, and generally failing at robbing a simple restaurant really takes a toll on one's self-esteem. He heard a small noise, but didn't do anything. It was probably a guard, or just some other prisoner looking to beat him up.

An odd-sounding voice spoke. "Ahem."

Steven looked up, but couldn't see anything. "Yeah, real funny! Stop putting Lenny in charge of me. I'm getting sick of the recordings. I didn't do anything wrong, or, at least, nothing as wrong as some of these other guys. Buncha idiots."

"Pugsy" Malone looked up from his copy of _The Two Gentlemen Of Verona_. "Hey, youz be quiet! Dey only gave me one day in dis place, and I wanna finish my book."

Steven sighed, as did the curiously raspy voice. He looked up again. "Lenny, I told you, stop! Why haven't they fired you? Also, do you have a cold or something? You sound like a-" A dark figure jumped down, grabbed Steven, and dragged him, flailing like a monkey, to an interrogation room.

"Pugsy" Malone looked up, shrugged, and went back to his novel. He may be awaiting a trial for spray-painting crayons on twenty police cars, but _darn it_, he wanted to finish that book.

Steven sat in the chair and tried not to cower, instead, trying to shield his eyes from a harsh light. "Look, Batman, I'm not falling for your cheesy scare tactics. I'm not going to confess to anything I didn't do. Besides, you're not really inspiring any fear in me. You sound like a sick horse!"

The figure stopped and stared. "Really? Come on, I thought that I finally had my impression down." A security guard flipped a light switch, revealing a college-age teenage girl in a Batsuit. She turned the flashlight off, and handed it to a security guard.

Steve gaped. "Wait, how many of you Bats are there?"

Batgirl rolled her eyes. "That's not important. However, what _is_ important is that you confess to robbing that bank last week."

Steven rolled his eyes. "I didn't rob a bank. I was sitting on my sofa, in my house, watching various web shows! You already prosecuted me for the restaurant thing, just lay off!"

The security guard turned to Batgirl. "Is he lying?"

Batgirl shook her head. "Nope, he's telling the truth. Well, I have to get back to doing Bat-stuff. Make sure Stephen doesn't do any more stupid things!" Stephen scowled.

**Five minutes later…**

As Stephanie Brown used a grappling hook to swing across town, Oracle called her. "Hey, O! I was just heading off to do some college work."

Oracle spoke quickly. "Steph, we have a large problem. You ever heard of The Question?"

Stephanie thought for a second. "Tall guy, wears a white mask, likes to go through people's trash?"

Oracle allowed herself a small smile at that last one. "Yes, but he seems to be getting better with that last one. We have a situation. The Joker and Harley Quinn-"

Stephanie nearly crashed into a building. "Whoa, whoa- The Joker? Do you remember the last time I faced a supervillain?"

_Two months ago...Johnny's Fritter Palace:_

_Hypnotized little kids laughed with glee, bonking Stepanie over the head with foam noodles mercilessly. Klarion the Witch Boy (bum, bum, bum) cackled like a loon nearby._

She shuddered at the memory. Applesauce would never enter her stomach again. "Besides, I'm super busy with college work. Couldn't Tim or Damian handle this one?"

Oracle shook her head. "Sorry, Steph. They're off on some other case. The Joker and Harley have been suspiciously inactive lately, but we caught them in Hub City. The Question tried and failed to go after them. I'm trying to hack into some possessed Christmas tree lights, and he went after them again. This time, he never came back. The pair skipped town and he lost his signal. You need to go after them and see if you can find them. Do _not_ engage, unless the situation is desperate. You know how dangerous they are."

Stephanie sighed. The essays were going to have to wait. "Possessed Christmas tree lights? Okay, where should I go? I hope they're not torturing him."

**Somewhere on the road…**

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH...Twenty trillion bottles of venom on the wall, twenty trillion bottles of venom on the wall! You smash one to bits, Bane can't use it, twenty trillion bottles of venom on the wall!" Harley bellowed.

The Question was stuffed in a straitjacket, sandwiched between the two in a very crowded minivan. Someone had placed a sombrero on his head and drawn a doodle of a ladybug on his mask. The Joker briefly took his hands off of the wheel to snap a quick picture of him. He leaned on the wheel, smiling like a loon. "So, how's tricks, Questiony? Don't you want to sing with us?"

Harley bumped into the Question. "It's only the polite thing to do, after spying on our vacation. Don't you want to see the rest of it? Oh, wait, I'm being rude. Want a snack?" She held up a bottle of apple juice and some graham crackers. The Question looked murderous. Laughing, she used a knife to slash part of his mask off and shoved the juice in, like a baby's bottle.

The Joker suddenly stopped by the 'Welcome to Central City: Home Of The Flash!" sign. Someone had repeatedly vandalized the sign to say 'Two Flashes', 'Three Flashes', 'One Flash', ' You Get The Point' and 'Speed-Themed Heroes!'

He bounced out of the car, dragging the Question with him as Harley locked the car. "Christmas tree lights...ATTEN_SHUN_!" Instantly, thousands upon thousands of lights zoomed to meet him, carrying an unconscious Flash.

Harley pointed a remote at them. "Okay, my artificial intelligence-fuel darlings, drop this buzz-killer into the car!" The robots grabbed a large sack, shoved the Flash in head first, and sprayed way too much Krazy Glue inside, finally locking it in the trunk, for overkill.

The Joker gently took the remote and pressed a green button. The 'bots began twisting and turning, forming and manipulating, until they all created a gigantic-

"STOP!" Batgirl leaped onto the scene, shoving them aside. "Deactivate that...bomb?"

The Joker turned to her, grinning. "My dear, does that look at all like a bomb?"

The Christmas tree robots had formed a scroll, with the message "STOP RUINING OUR VACATION." emblazoned on it.

Batgirl contacted Oracle. "It's just some message telling us to leave them alone." she grumbled.

Harley scowled. "Hey, I spent hours on that! It's not easy, giving the power of creative thought and life to burned-out ornaments!"

Oracle said. "Somehow, I don't think that's going to hold up in court. They blew up a gas station."

Harley grabbed the Joker and ran into the car, pressing a button that send the Question flying out as if someone had punted him. "Gotta go, bye!"

**To be continued…**

**Next: Courtroom hijinks.**


	5. Things Get Weird! (Even For This Series)

**A/N: I'm going to be honest. My story is having some troubles. I didn't plan out the story arc as well as I should have. I am also having doubts about it, because my main intention was just to write stories about the minutia and daily life of the Joker and Harley Quinn. Therefore, it is time for a short story! It will give me time for planning how to fix the mess I've made! Who knows, maybe it'll be resolved by the end of this. Read and review, if you please. As always, have an excellent day!**

**Chapter 5: "Things Get Weird! (Even For This Series)"**

The trial will start in one week. The Joker and Harley were unceremoniously dumped into a cell and left to rot. Why would the prisons be so stupid as to place them into a single cell? Well, who's going to argue with a pair of mad clowns? Until the trial, they can only converse and ignore the taunts of prisoners too dumb to realize that they're insulting the Joker!

Harley scratched some paint off of the wall. "So, Mr. J, any plans for after the trial?"

The Joker leaned back on the bench. "I can't think of anything, surprisingly. Our plan to kill the Batman failed. They just send some teen. It wouldn't be as fun electrifying her with the nanobots. Interrupted vacations, incomplete plans, and INSENSITIVE PRISON GUARDS!" This last part was yelled at Bernie the Guard, who was staring at them, grinning like a loon. He sloped off to go bother Steven Wornchupper.

Harley poked the wall, which fizzled and sparked. She stared at it, thoroughly confused. "Well, that's new. Hey, come look at this." The pair made small indentations in the wall, upon which colorful sparks and miniature rainbows started to appear.

The Joker looked around. "No, I don't think that guards gave us drugs. This doesn't seem like the Scarecrow's work. Do you think it's worth it to see if the wall breaks?"

Harley shrugged and tried to rip apart the moldy toilet. After a few tries, she succeeded, and the two set to bashing the wall. This, of course, alerted the guards. However, by the time the guards arrived, only Harley was in the cell, whistling innocently.

She waved at them. "What's up?" The Joker popped up, seemingly out of thin air, and grinned. The guards instantly called for backup, perhaps Zatanna or some other magic user. Still smiling, Harley and the Joker leaped through the wall.

…

Everything was blue. Orbs floated at random, emitting random sounds. Soup cans were suspended in the air. Evidently, the owner of this realm was an art lover. The Joker and Harley floated around, trying to get a grip on something, fearing that they would fly off to a grisly grave if they could not get onto solid ground. That is, if solid ground could be found here…

With a flash of light, a silhouette appeared, clapping giant hands. Harley and the Joker vanished, into the ether.

…

Trees, houses, and the sounds of urban life. A small crowd had gathered to view something, presumably a store's grand opening, but scattered when the Joker and Harley warped into their world.

Back in the prison cell, a figure appeared, wielding a bright yellow sword. He or she wore a costume that was emblazoned with images of rubber ducks. This odd person pressed a button and the costume retracted, revealing a different suit underneath, comprised of robotics. The sword was raised for battle, and the person intoned, "And, lo, the Rubber Ducky Man hath arrived. I will be a GOD!"

_To be continued…_

**A/N: Confused? You can find the origin of Rubber Ducky Man in my stories "Rubber Ducky" and "Rubber Ducky 2: The Duckening." Meanwhile, the answers to all this mystical weirdness will soon be revealed in my other tale, "Gravity Falls: No Fourth Wall."**


	6. Season's End

**A/N: I don't own anything from DC. Read and review, if you please!**

**Chapter 6: "Season's End"**

Gasping, Harley and the Joker popped back into their world.

"Puddin?" Harley whispered. "You okay?"

The Joker nodded. "Perfectly fine, my dear. Just bumped my head on one of those rocks. Couldn't make me worse than I am now!"

Harley relaxed. "Good, because I want to talk with you about something." After the Joker positioned himself into a relaxed state, she continued. "This vacation seems like it's been more trouble than it's worth. Why don't we just go back to the way things used to be? Only this time, we can have a more informal schedule. Just hang out and talk, plan our murder attempts that way. Who knows, maybe we can get some some kind of group together with the other villains."

The Joker pouted. "But Harles, they're frightened of me. Ah, I'm just kidding. Fear is an excellent motivator!"

Harley smiled. "So, you wanna get back to our house? I'm sure that Ivy is getting sick of the hyenas." The Joker smiled.

They got up, brushed the dirt and cosmic grit off their clothes, and started walking into the sunset...right before a police car came. Officer Harvey Bullock stumbled out, holding a half-eaten donut and brandishing a gun.

"Hey, you! Get on the ground and don't try anything stupid!" he mumbled.

Harley and the Joker shrugged, looked at each other, and broke into a furious run. The chase was on!

…

Rubber Ducky Man was miffed. You come to a dimension, trying to conquer it with rubber ducks, and they call you a nut. Next moment, you're stuffed in a jail cell, sandwiched between two other criminals who look like they could eat you for lunch. Fortunately, he had a backup plan.

"Okay," our valiant hero whispered, fearful of waking the lumbering oafs up, "let's see if I still remember how to do this. _Accio _teleportation gun!" The gun flew into the cell, neatly depositing it inside his hand. Mental magic: It really helps!

He fired the gun at the ceiling, jumped on his cellmates face's ("Ow!"), and clambered into the portal with a cry of "FOR JUSTICE!"

…

It was a fun filled three hours. The Joker and Harley led the police through a ditch, three weathervanes, a bog, and one very chaotic goat barn. By the time a tattered, furious Harvey had explained himself to the farmer, shaking dung off his clothes, they had stolen a car and disappeared.

"So, Harley, where should we go now?" The Joker questioned.

Harley smiled. "Well, just in case, we should probably move our house! There's plenty of condemned places in Gotham!"

The Joker steered the wheel, spinning the car haphazardly. "Very well, my dear. First, though, I think we should spend some quality time together. I know a guy who runs this great illegal theater. Up for a Sandler film?"

Harley's eyes began to tear up. "You'd sit through a Sandler film for me? YAY!"

And they hugged and rode off. The movie would be decent. Not spectacular, not terrible. Good riffing material, though.

**The End**

**Next: ****The Joker And Harley Quinn: The Married Life**** will return in three weeks. Until then, mayhap a short story will be created...Mayhap it will focus on Poison Ivy and the hyenas...Mayhap it will be delightful fun! So, how have you liked this first season? Complaints? Criticisms? Let me know below, and have an excellent day!**


	7. And a Chihuahua!

**A/N: It's finally back.**

**Chapter 7: "And a Chihuahua!"**

It has been three weeks since the chaos of the supposed alternate dimensions, random appearances by pesky heroes, and painstakingly disassembling their cozy abandoned warehouse and setting it back up in a danker portion of Gotham. Harley and the Joker talked things over and decided to pretend that Batgirl and the alternate dimensions never appeared, and that it was all a hallucination from some bad tacos.

Now, they simply returned to a relatively normal life. Things stayed relatively calm, except for when Poison Ivy broke into their house and stole some money. She later said that it was for "medical expenses and hyena obedience school." The Joker and Harley alternately went out to pull off some crazy caper or murder someone for the fun of it. Meanwhile, the other would make plans for the next night or relax by hacking into the police's computer systems and changing the dress code to "ninja-style dancers."

In the meantime, though, they would have a late dinner and muse over the day's events. Sometimes they would plan excursions together or they would fix the other's errors. In the case of today, unfortunately, it seemed as though the errors could not be fixed.

Harley sat on the couch, patting one of the hyenas. "Yes, Mr. Fluffy-Fangs, you are Harley's little friend. Want a bone?" She pulled a strangely long bone (a femur?) out of a red-stained bag and placed it near his mouth, making sure to pull away quickly. It was gone within seconds.

The door opened, and the Joker practically flopped in. "Hi, Harls. It's been a very stressful day. Do you know what's happened to the local morgue?"

Harley continued to scratch the hyena's ear. "Sorry, puddin'. I've been concentrating on the orphanages. Did you know that if you threaten to take away the food supply, then the more corrupt employees will let you take some of the orphans as 'employees?' That reminds me, don't open the bedroom door. Some of them are in there and I don't know if the tranquilizers have worn off. The hyenas have been extra hungry lately."

The Joker eyed the hyenas warily. "Yes, we definitely don't want the hyenas killing our cheap labor. And on the subject of death, that's something that I have to complain about tonight." He pulled out a flask of whiskey from the refrigerator and took a long swig. "Ah, that's good." He then grabbed some grapes and sat down by Harley, hugging her.

After a few seconds, he rubbed his eyes and set down the bottle. "So, I was having some trouble with coming up with a plan last night. It was getting late, so I chose to just steal something. I had just grabbed some fire extinguishers from the fire department, but the police came. I tried to hide in the morgue, but there's too many dead bodies! I couldn't find an empty fridge or locker! I just threw all of my bombs at the police. I barely escaped with the fire extinguishers. Why is this happening?"

Harley looked up from her beloved pet. "Well, I'm sorry to say this, but you might be part of the problem. Your plans tend to cause a lot of...collateral damage. Besides, you just told me that you killed a lot of police officers."

The Joker paced across the living room. "That's it! Harley, you're a genius! Now, what can I do to solve this situation? Steal bodies from the morgue? No, that would just clutter up our house and make the hyenas ill from overeating. Besides, the orphans might get sick. Lousy orphans. Quickly organize funerals for the bodies? No, that would take too long. Dump them in the river? Steal Victor's freezing rays, freeze the bodies, and let them melt in the Caribbean? No! I know what I must do...I have to stop killing people!"

"Are you sure you can stick to that?" Harley asked.

"I'll have to try my best! I can return to my roots! Pulling annoying pranks on Batman and dumping toxic glitter in the food supply! Wait, no, that would kill people." Joker sat back down. "Harley, can you help me?"

She nodded. "Sure! Just go through your old schemes and take out the deadly parts! Replace them with something harmless. Alternately, maybe you could confuse everyone by doing nice things or lying low."

Joker gasped. "NO! I am sorry, but I can't do that. The Joker does not lie low. I may cheat, I may steal candy from babies and heart medication from old people, I may trick people into going to the beach so I can use robots to drown them, but I do not lie low! I will continue to be a nuisance, just a less deadly one! Now, _let's. Get. PLANNING!_"

And so they plotted and planned long into the night, laughing and giggling. They will do this!

_Three weeks later…_

The Joker practically dragged himself through the door. "I can't do this, Harley! This is driving me crazy!"

Harley looked up from the computer. "Just a second." She make a few more keystrokes into the computer. "Okay, there. I've just hacked into the elementary school's cafeteria menu. They just ordered ten tons of anchovies! So, what's wrong?"

The Joker sat down on the couch. "I keep trying and trying, but this isn't going to work out. I haven't killed anyone yet, but I feel like i'm just going to snap! People everywhere are so obnoxious! I nearly strangled the local pizza guy after he sent me the wrong pizza order! The lackeys are getting uppity! Questioning orders, suggesting alternate plans, even daring to say that I'm not as efficient as I used to be!"

Harley sat down next to him. "To be fair, it did take you three hours to break out of Arkham Asylum. Usually, it only takes you half an hour."

The Joker sighed. "You know what?"

Harley shrugged. "No, I don't."

Joker snapped his fingers."I've got it! I'll blow up the morgue! My whole problem started with not being able to hide there! If it's gone, then I won't have that problem! I'll just keep working on that invisibility suit! I need ten pounds of C-4 and a Chihuahua! TO THE BACKYARD!"

And so, they got the necessary ingredients and blew up the morgue. Embalming fluid, dead bodies, and rubble flew everywhere. Dozens of people were killed, more were hurt. The city was in chaos, thanks to the happy couple.

**THE END**

_Post-Script…_

In the locked room, the orphans finally began to wake up. Little did they know that their lives would get much, much worse...


	8. Whiplash

**A/N: I haven't forgotten that as funny as the Joker can be, he's also a cold-blooded psychopath capable of horrific violence. Happy Halloween! I don't own anything.**

**The Joker And Harley Quinn: The Married Life**

**Chapter 8: "Whiplash"**

Many months had passed ever since the Joker had kidnapped those orphans. In that time, only one of the original band had survived, a poor little waif named Timmy. Cold, starving, and, fortunately, slightly smarter than the other orphans. You had to be smart to survive when the Joker forcibly recruited you. As it is, he only had three of his original limbs left and four missing teeth. Depending on the Joker's current mood, he might be losing his life very shortly.

…

The Joker slapped the donkey. "STOP BRAYING AT ME!" Pulling out a shotgun, he blew the poor beast's brains out. "Timothy, you may enter. I trust you bring me good news?"

Timmy shivered, opening the door of the Joker's office. In truth, it was merely a small room in the house with a computer and copious stacks of paper precariously perched everywhere. Today brought the addition of rotting skunk corpses, fresh donkeys brains, and the still cooling corpse of "Boffo", the prize-winning donkey at some kind of contest.

Trembling, he held up a newspaper with his remaining arm. "Sir, there's a small article in the back. Someone is copying you."

Joker stopped stomping on the deceased donkey's diaphragm. "...Leave me, Timothy. I have some work to do."

Grateful to still be alive, Timmy scuttled out of the room.

**...**

_7:29 pm…_

Janice was known as a weasel in the mob's circles. She could get you information, obviously for a price, no matter if you were a cop, a Bat-member, or a criminal. Still, sometimes the job could surprise her. Out of the shadows, the Joker crept up.

"H-hello, Mr. Joker. What can I do for you?" she whispered, before coughing slightly.

The Joker smiled. It looked like he had digestive issues. "Don't worry, Ms. Janice. No harm will come to you. I just want to know if you've heard of this miscreant?" He held out the paper and pointed to the article.

Janice gulped and tried to get rid of the rasp in her voice. "Yes. I have. He came to me earlier, wanting to know about some appropriate places to hide out. I told him that I would have some information later."

The Joker nodded politely. "Could you please tell him that the closed restaurant is available?" Without waiting for a response, he handed her a thick wad of bills and ran away.

Janice shuddered. Whoever the copycat was, she really didn't want to be in their shoes.

…

_Midnight…_

The copycat confidently strode in, carrying a box of dynamite. He slapped at his knee and stumbled slightly. "Darn mosquitos." He set the box down and luxuriously stretched out on a crate.

The Joker stepped out of the shadows, pointing a gun at the man's temple. "Good evening, Mr. Brand. Don't move."

Mr. Brand whimpered. "What do you want with me? How do you know my name?"

The Joker grinned. "You're new to this town, aren't you? Everyone who tries to copy me has either gone to jail or died. Learn the nature of a town before you try to work it, buddy boy. Do your research. I did mine. Your name is Jon Brand. You thought you would come here and impersonate various criminals, make some cash, and skip town. Maybe try it again. You've done it before."

Jon trembled. The Joker continued to circle him, lightly tossing the gun. "You're free to go. Get out of my sight. Go find another town, one without heroes."

Jon attempted to comply, but failed. "I-I can't move! What did you do to me? How can I talk?"

Joker fired the gun into the air. A minute pellet hit the chair. "A special variation of my venom, condensed into a pellet. It paralyzes the body, leaving the victim unable to move their body. They can speak, unless I cut out their tongue. That sting in your kneecap? A pellet, not a mosquito."

The Joker whirled around, pointing across the room. "You should also know that people can be bribed. I told Janice to send you here. If you did your research, you would know that this restaurant used to be run by the Forte's. Some gangsters killed them. The bodies were removed, but not the tools."

He picked up a knife, twirling it around. "Oh, and you can still feel pain." He lightly poked Brand, sending rivulets of blood down his neck. Brand shook, tears streaming down his face.

The Joker went to the far edge of the kitchen and rummaged through a dusty box. "I've always wondered about the process of murder by cheese grater. Let's find out together, shall we?"

The poor man's screams rang long into the night, punctuated by random comments from the Joker about the grater's rustiness.

**THE END**

**A/N: That was very different from my usual goofy style! **


	9. Celebration Preparations

**A/N: To all those who celebrate it, happy Thanksgiving! Fresh off of a wonderful dinner, I received inspiration for a story! Have an excellent day, and read and review, if you please.**

**The Joker And Harley Quinn: The Married Life**

**Chapter 9: "Celebration Preparation"**

At the best of times, Gotham could never be called a happy place. Hopeful, yes. Pleased? Maybe, but only temporarily. Content? Absolutely not. You can feel happiness in Gotham City, but the general air of gloom and the constant attacks by crazed criminals, superpowered or otherwise, really tends to bring down the mood.

Despite this, holidays still managed to arouse a feeble sense of joy. Decorations made the crumbling buildings slightly more colorful and the smell of delicious food managed to cheer a lucky few up. Thanksgiving, while not as colorful as Christmas, Chanukah, or Kwanzaa, or as flashy as Halloween, still managed to improve the general ambience. After all, what better way to ruin the winter holidays by holding a few trick-or-treaters hostage or slaughtering a family just as they're beginning to eat a festive meal?

It's just not as amusing for some of the more twisted residents to wreak havoc on Thanksgiving. Oh, sure, some have tried. Calendar Man tried to secretly poison every frozen turkey in the market, but he waited until the last minute, and all the turkeys were sold by the time he ran over. He failed not from a lack of effort, but from a lack of brains. Back when the Penguin wasn't running a 'legitimate businessman's social club', he was experimenting with obsessively committing capers based on any and every kind of bird. He wanted to round up some people and dress them up as Benjamin Franklin, then crush them with a giant stone turkey. It's an irony thing. Just look up Benjamin Franklin's history with the turkey.

So, for the most part, the criminals stopped committing crimes on Thanksgiving. Sure, you could find a few outliers, but things were mostly quiet. The main super-powered villains had formed an exclusive club long ago, planning meetings and various crimes together, all held at alternating locations. On Thanksgiving, however, things were different. _Every_ mob-related criminal joined up with the main crew and had dinner at a required meeting place. This year would be the first meeting since the Joker married Harley Quinn and, coincidentally, they were scheduled to host it.

The Joker and Harley were happy to host it! Over the course of the month of November, they planned out a meal, slowly cooked it, and froze it. The good thing about Gotham was that the disproportionately large number of abandoned buildings gave them an ample amount of storage space. As soon as everything was done, they decided who to exclude. You see, although some mob-based criminals were allowed, so many dime-a-dozen mobsters would draw too much attention to their new house. Having your happy meal interrupted by the police would be very disruptive. (And, yes, they realize the irony of comparing that to breaking into people's houses as they eat dinner in order to rob and/or murder them.) It was November 27th, and Joker and Harley were deciding who made the cut.

The Joker sat down in a fluffy armchair in the living room, unfurling a large list of names. Meanwhile, Harley sat down on the couch, creating the necessary form letter invitations for the guests on her laptop. "So, Harley, do we want the Riddler?"

Harley considered it, chewing on a strand of her hair. "He's been slightly twitchy lately. I don't want him firing off a smoke bomb and scaring Smiley or Slashy." Smiley, one of the hyenas, started panting upon hearing his name. Harley tossed a strip of meat to him, much to his delight.

The Joker nodded. "Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea. Besides, I get sick of his riddles. Does he really have to do that with every situation? _'Smooth or lumpy, white, yellow or red. I am eatable, but I was never alive or dead. What am I?' _Just say that you want some mashed potatoes, you twit! I know he can't help it, but it just gets grating."

Harley deleted him from the list. "Fair enough, puddin'. Maybe we can send him some kind of fruit basket as a consolation, or try to get some medicine to help him."

"Yeah, that might work." Joker scratched Smiley's back, making him growl happily. "What about Selina Kyle? She mentioned a collaboration on some jewels the last time we met."

"I don't know, she's been sighted near Batman recently. It's so hard to tell if she's on our side or on his side. Whenever I ask her, she clams up. I'll try, but I doubt it. What about Ivy?"

"Sure!" Joker said. "Should we invite Arnold and Scarface?"

Harley nodded. "Absolutely! I love hearing them talk about the goings-on in the mob. You know, I still can't tell if Arnold's crazy or Scarface is alive."

Joker shrugged. "Eh, it doesn't really matter. We're crazy, he might be crazy, everyone's a little crazy. Cobblepot?"

Harley jotted something down. "Sure, just make sure to pick up some fish. I heard a rumor that he might temporarily go back to bird crimes, just to screw with Bats."

The Joker rubbed his hands together. "That would be great! I love it when we mess with his mind. Oh, that reminds me! I'm almost out of explosive shower caps. Do we have time to pick some up before the party?"

Harley checked the clock. "If we can get the fish along with it. We're slowly running out of time. We need to get everything done quickly, so Timmy can be prepared."

Joker chuckled. "Ah, I love comparing henches with everyone else. It's so much fun to rub it in that our small, one-legged child can be more efficient than their corrupt police officers or mooks."

As the clock inched closer to 6:30, the guest list was finalized, the food was bought, and Timmy was dressed in his finest rags. The party was a unanimous success!

**THE END**

**Post-Script: I'm sorry that not a lot happened. My idea mostly focused on the party preparations. Bye!**


	10. Carolina Reaper

**A/N: Best. Villains. EVER. Maybe.**

**The Joker And Harley Quinn: The Married Life**

**Chapter 10: "Ghosts"**

When you are married to someone, you typically like to spend time with them. Engaging activities, creative crafts, and meditating with movies are just some of the things you can do, often followed by a spirited debate about the positive and negative aspects of the activity.

Of course, if you are a supervillain couple, then those activities are drastically different. The Joker and Harley Quinn enjoyed committing crimes and capers across Gotham, gleefully giggling as they spread murderous mirth. The Joker had once snidely joked that Batman and Robin had the same idea, only to earn a horrible beating from the Dynamic Duo. Later, spitting out a tooth, he decided against making future remarks, saying that 'concussions weren't funny.'

On those rare date nights when they were not doing anything remotely illegal, they could be found having a romantic dinner at the Iceberg Lounge. However, on this night, they were not at the Iceberg Lounge, nor were they shooting poisoned arrows at passerby. Instead, the Joker and Harley Quinn were conducting their monthly team-up application meetings.

You see, all the local villains in Gotham were looking for new ways to shake things up and throw Batman off his game. Switching tactics, trading clues, exchanging weaponry- that sort of thing. One fairly new tactic involved teaming up with other villains, either lesser-known ones who had managed to stay under the radar or the horribly murderous and terrifying ones.

Despite what you may think, a lot of thugs and lackeys chose to ally with the latter. The more attention their 'ally' received from the Bat, they gathered, the more likely they were to escape relatively unharmed. Obviously, if other heroes were there, they were doomed, but no one was considering that at the time.

Harley was a fan of the idea, having realized that Batman had foiled the last five heists that she had perpetrated with Poison Ivy. The Joker wasn't as enthusiastic, although that was mostly because any minor criminal who saw him developed a tendency to stutter and wet their pants. Striking fear into the hearts of crooks was all well and good, but not if it impeded one's efficiency. It was getting harder and harder to find people willing to dress up as clowns and comedians.

Even so, on the fourteenth of every month, the two set up shop in one of the Iceberg Lounge's back rooms, courtesy of the Penguin, and started auditioning a mixture of ordinary robbers and the more colorful residents of Gotham. Outside the room, an eager bunch of them stood outside, frantically practicing their pitches and monologues, a few bemoaning their lack of props.

…

_3:45 pm…_

Inside, the Joker and Harley sat behind a desk, trying to look as professional as possible. Well, Harley was. The Joker had a look of supreme boredom. Seeing this, Harley gave him a sharp poke with her elbow. "Pay attention, puddin'. The first candidate is waiting. COME IN!"

The candidate in question, a nervous-looking chap by the name of Shy Ronnie, was outside, trembling and fidgeting. After hearing Harley's shout, he strode in and sat down, grinning smugly. "Hi, I'm Shy Ronnie. I've based my persona on a late-night comedy show's character to get people to underestimate me. Want to hear me rap?"

Harley rolled her eyes. "No, thanks. What are your references?"

Shy Ronnie opened his resume. "I have no formal criminal experience, but I have worked with several radio stations. I clean up the studio. I could let you in, maybe alter the equipment to electrify them."

Harley and the Joker exchanged bored glances, before pressing a buzzer. Timmy, now a half-human cyborg, rose up from a secret platform."I'm sorry, sir, but your ideas are overplayed and your experience isn't useful. Joker, Ms. Quinn, should I throw him into the hyena pit?"

Shy Ronnie attempted to squirm out of Timmy's robotic grasp, whimpering. "P-please, I can be useful! I have contacts!"

Joker waved a hand toward the door. "Toss him out. Maybe Oswald needs a shoe-shiner. NEXT!"

While they waited for the next spooked applicant to enter the room, Harley looked over a discarded paper from his resume. "Huh, he has some experience in pyrotechnics. Well, _had_, anyway. Timmy's really good at throwing things."

The Joker nodded. "Getting those nanobots fused to his body was the best idea you've had all year."

**...**

The Great White Shark burst in, grinning and wearing an ostentatious white suit. He spoke with a thick Boston accent. "Joker, Harley! So nice to see ya again! Remember that job in Montana? Boy, we were wrong about there being no capes there! Anyway, I had this swell idea for a plan. I can sweet-talk some head honchos at Wayne Enterprises into givin' us some codes to break in. After that, you could spread some whoopee cushions or laughin' gas in there."

The Joker raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Warren. We're not doing something along those lines at the moment. We could use some muscle, however."

Warren shrugged. "Sorry, I've been trying to get back into the information business. But, if you need someone's face chomped off and Croc's in Arkham, call me. I could use a good meal."

…

Before either of the pair could call in the next applicant, Ambush Bug teleported into the room, flopping onto the chair. "Hiya! I'm here for the temp position. Not a lot of people seem to be needing a detective these days. Stupid economy."

Squinting, the Joker looked at the green-garbed Bug. "I feel like I know you from somewhere...Wait! You electrocuted me at Arkham. I'LL KILL YOU!" He lunged across the table to strangle him, but Ambush Bug had already disappeared with a quiet 'POP'. Grumbling, he sat back down, adjusting his tie.

…

A man dressed up in a fancy suit, decorated with musical notes burst into the room._ "You say you need a coworker, I'm just the guy! Ha cha cha, cha cha cha, ha cha CHA! I'm the Music Meister!"_

Timmy tossed him out the door while doing the Macarena.

…

After what seemed like an infinity of interviews, it was six-thirty at night. Harley was grumpy, having downed the last cup of coffee long ago. The Joker kept fiddling with his acid-flower, trying to plug a small leak. This month's plan for the interviews had not gone well, as the mixture of hardened criminals and small-time thieves turned out to be ill-advised. Several gang wars had already broken out in the hallway, causing the Penguin to curse, waddle into the hallway, and threaten to skewer the offenders with his umbrella.

Additionally, Timmy's tossing of Shy Ronnie was too powerful, accidentally sending him hurtling into the Iceberg Lounge's main dining area. Fortunately, The Penguin was able to pass it off as part of the on-stage act, but the event still ran perilously close to attracting the Batman's attention. (Incidentally, they needn't have worried. He was currently with the Justice League, embroiled in a series of conferences.)

On the other hand, several meetings were extremely productive. The Riddler, an old friend of the Joker and Harley, had a brilliant scheme involving an upcoming performance at the theater. Meanwhile, Arnold 'Ventriloquist' Wesker and Scarface delivered some covert items to them for a future plot involving chocolate Easter bunnies, old VHS tapes of spy films, and ceiling fans.

Still, even with the success, they were both eager for the event to be over with. Technically, all of the applicants were gone, but someone had scheduled something by phone. He should have been there by now.

Just as they were about to give up, a lanky man, his clothes decorated with packets for sauces and seasonings, burst into the room. "Greetings! It is I, the Condiment King!"

"Ah, geez, _this_ nut!" Harley stage-whispered to the Joker. He snickered and started doodling a picture of the Condiment King on his notepad.

Seemingly not noticing their disdain, the Condiment King sat down. "I've been doing some soul-searching during a journey to better my skills. I've trained with the greatest chefs across the world, soundly defeated my opponents in seven cooking contests, and literally stole the show in dozens of county fairs."

"Yes, but can you do anything besides providing the catering?" The Joker replied testily.

Condiment King raised one eyebrow. "Good sir, that is what I came to show you. My friends, you are getting the exclusive premiere of my newest gadget! You see, I have procured the juices of the ghost pepper, along with many other peppers. I have been able to synthesize them, thus making my condiment guns even more powerful. Just imagine the Batman getting a good dose of Carolina Reaper right in the face! Please, I'm just a boy, standing in front of a girl and her husband, asking for a chance to help kill Batman and spread chaos across the world."

Joker and Harley conferred for a few minutes, debating the pros and cons. On the plus side, he was even more theatrical than Clayface, and that was good for a laugh. Also, he could cook. On the other hand, he had little to no experience with committing actual crimes. But, he could learn.

Finally, they turned to him. Harley shook his hand, beaming. "Learn how to bake 'em into a pie and we've got a deal! You're in!"

Condiment King danced around in enjoyment. "Yes! Yes! Thank you. I promise, I'll be the best associate you've ever had." Unfortunately, one of his guns fell to the ground, spilling all of the juice, which melted through the floor and burned Timmy's face.

_Timmy would get a bionic eye and skin grafts. The Penguin wasn't happy about the mess, but reluctantly agreed to keep hosting them after they promised to lend Condiment King out during meal times. Ambush Bug unsuccessfully tried to start a riot at WonderCon after the DC team didn't give him a miniseries. (_"DC Rebirth, my antennae!") _The trio's plan to burn Batman with a pepper-laced pie failed when it was revealed that he ate triple that amount of peppers every morning. Why? Because he's Batman._

**THE END**


End file.
